Death stood before the ancient, yellowed mirror.
His reflection stared back at him—sharp features as though carefully carved by time itself. Broad shoulders, a well-built frame, and eyes the color of stormed ash. His gray gaze held calm authority, the kind that did not need to threaten to command fear.
He was deadly handsome.
He lifted his crown—heavy bronze forged with ancient magic—and placed it upon his head. The weight was familiar. Comforting.
Behind him, the Queen of Faith appeared.
Death turned and pulled her into his arms. The oppressive aura that followed him everywhere faded instantly. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, smiling.
"Ready, my Queen?"
She smiled back, sweet and warm. "Yes, my King."
She rose onto her toes and placed a teasing kiss on his cheek.
"You are teasing me," he murmured, his thumb tracing softly over her lips.
She nodded, and they both laughed—quiet, intimate.
"After today, we can rest," she said.
"Yes," Death agreed softly. "Our last enemy falls today."
They held each other's gaze, an unspoken understanding passing between them.
They had been chosen by the Almighty.
She would write fate, exposing the gods who hid behind false virtue.
He would end them.
The final name remained—
The God of Desire.
"Go on," Death said calmly.
The Queen of Faith stepped forward and lifted her diary.
Ancient. Golden. Alive.
Every word written within it became Faith.
She dipped the quill into ink drawn from belief itself and wrote a single word.
Bind.
Her hand trembled.
She looked up at Death one last time.
Then she continued.
Bind Death, King of the Underworld, to his throne.
Let his power turn inward.
Let his time stand still.
The moment the quill lifted from the page, the diary erupted in blinding golden light.
Death smiled—
then froze.
A force dragged him backward. Invisible pressure slammed him into the throne. Chains burst into existence, coiling around his arms, his chest, his throat—anchoring him in place.
"What—" His voice faltered.
From the wall behind them, a figure stepped out, clapping slowly.
The God of Desire.
"Loving was your greatest mistake," he said with a mocking smile.
Something cracked inside Death.
He turned—not to the god—but to the Queen of Faith.
Her sweetness was gone.
In its place was a cold, twisted smile.
"I fell too," she said softly.
She stepped closer, her voice dripping with ambition.
"I fell to sin. I want to rule. I want to dictate every creature that exists."
Her eyes burned.
"Go to extinction, my King."
She laughed.
The God of Desire joined her.
The chains tightened.
Death did not struggle.
To fight Faith was meaningless.
His eyes locked onto hers—filled not with rage, but betrayal so deep it hollowed him.
He spoke one word.
"Die."
The Queen of Faith gasped. Invisible hands crushed her throat. Blood spilled from her lips as she collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
At the same moment, the chains sealed completely.
Blue light surged through them.
Death's eyes closed.
The God of Desire glanced at the corpse, shrugged, and vanished into the wall.
Silence claimed the throne room.
And Death was bound.